I Rest My Case
by Janna18
Summary: Edward - hot shot lawyer. Bella - small town girl. She is linked to his uncle somehow, who dies suddenly. Suspicions arise about their relationship. Circumstances throw Edward and Bella together. They vow hate each other. Can they really?


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I REST MY CASE

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**Author **Janna

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**Book **Twilight

**Genre **Romance/ Drama

**Pairing **Edward Mason X Isabella Swan

**Rating **T

**Disclaimer **

I do not under any circumstance own the cast or characters of Twilight saga. Sole property rights go to Stephenie Meyer. Go talk to my lawyers if there is a problem ;P

I own only the plot and the new characters introduced during the course of the story.

I'm just a poor person trying to create my story with the existing characters from Clamp's show, Card Captor Sakura. (wipes tears) Sole property rights go to Clamp. The standard disclaimers apply.

_PLEASE JUST GIVE ME EDWARD!!!!!!!!_

_I don't want anything else!!!!!!!_

_Please just give EDWARD to me pwease!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Glare at everybody and wipes tears angrily. All I want in life is Edward. Is that too much to ask?? _

_Apparently it is._

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**Summary**

Edward - hot shot lawyer. Bella - small town girl. She is linked to his uncle somehow, who dies suddenly. Suspicions arise about their relationship. Circumstances throw Edward and Bella together. They vow hate each other. Can they really?

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**I REST MY CASE**

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**The First Wrong Impression**

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**CHAPTER ONE**

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To someone used to the life in a small farming community, the country's city was a revelation: not, in spite of its superb position on the harbours and its almost sub-tropical climate, a particularly pleasant one at that.

In the place where she had lived through most of her childhood and teenage life, there were extremes of temperatures to adjust too. Either it was too hot to bear or too cold, just about enough to freeze. She was surprisingly fragile compared to her sturdy and fail- safe mother and equally strong brothers and father.

After two tiring and irritating months Isabella Swan was at last able to sleep through the night without being disturbed by the unfamiliar noises of the traffic at every which hour, but although she was learning to appreciate this sprawling bustling city, she still missed her home town and its quiet peacefulness.

Especially she longed for her mother and her three younger half-brothers, Jacob, Quill and Embry. At seventeen, twelve and eight, their racket and high spirits had often irritated her to the point of no return, but now she wished passionately that she could hear them as they tormented and mercilessly teased her one more time. And although she had never understood not for the lack of trying though, the big, reserved man, Charlie, who was her stepfather, she found herself ridiculously missing him and his strict curfews too. Rigid, even inflexible, Charlie might be, but he was a familiar face and that meant that he was dear to her. She could rely on him for support with blind trust.

At night, those feelings seemed to intensify.

Never before in her short twenty years of life had she ever been lonely. She was by nature quiet unless provoked or aggravated, but she usually remained a recluse. Now it was like a permanent ache in her heart. She was out – spoken when need be, always ready to lend a helping hand. She was fiery when provoked, but silent and watchful otherwise. Homesickness's first bout was quite strong indeed.

She didn't have much similar likes with the other girls living in the hostel. They, too, came from country and farming districts down south, but most of them from were quite close to the city at least more closer than her. In Bella's dark brown eyes they seemed exceedingly urbane, talking only of boyfriends, lovers, movies, actors and love affairs and the latest trends in fashion.

They were amusing to watch and listen to, especially when they claimed to be busy but spent hours together gossiping like there was no tomorrow! You never did run out of anything to talk to when you had dozens of actors and movies and millions of people to comment upon and destroy reputations for right?

At work too it was pretty much the same scenes in different settings and different casts.

She was the youngest crafter, and the only one with single status with a non – existent love life, and her fellow workers had thoughts which were centred on their families and children.

She provided a good ear to all their woes and worries, happiness and joy, and she had the uncanny ability of making people talk to her without inhibitions, which made her well liked and popular amongst them. But the crowd was not of her age and so she didn't have anybody she loved and laughed with.

What she was suffering from, of course, was an excessive dose of homesickness.

Granted, it would weaken away and in time die; in the intervening time she looked forward to her lunch breaks, for then she took her lunch to a park down the main road and quite often found there the only friend she had made yet in the big city.

The girls in the hostel and who she was acquainted with, would have been rather contemptuous of Mr Cullen. He was _old_ was what they would say.

He was definitely masculine and extremely good looking, but, at least at a good thirty-five to forty years older than Isabella's twenty, not the age to attract them.

Bella, however, had realised and was surprised that he, too, was insecure and lonely and had proffered her immediate smile and warmth.

Their association had progressed from smiles to words, from there on to long drawn out and in depth. Gradually they had advanced to something like friendship. Each day Bella found herself looking forward to her break, for he was a fascinating conversationalist and a raconteur, treating her with an old-world consideration and respect which she found she liked immensely. It was very endearing.

Today he was waiting for her again, smart in a suit which was definitely not new but which bore the impalpable stamp of a good and accomplished tailor. She couldn't spot one stitch out of place and it complemented him very well. He seemed well off.

'You look exceptionally pretty today,' he observed, getting to his feet as she came towards him swiftly.

She grinned, the depths of her brown eyes a shiny glimmer with tiny gold sparks whizzing with energy.

'Why, thank you, Mr. Cullen. You polish up very well too.'

'Oh, I have to go down town later for some business.'

He waited until she had sat down before he did himself. Such a gentleman!

'So, are you okay? Are you settling in? You seem to be losing that rather uncomfortablelook you wore when we first met.'

'Oh, I'm getting used to the life, believe me….'

She opened her lunch with careful, clear-cut movements, looking its stuffing with utter aversion. The hostel boarding came with provisions of an alleged _home- cooked_ lunch every day.

What a joke! It was made with staggering lack of imagination, the ingredients were used to the bare minimums. How _very_ generous!

'Happy with your new surroundings? Not quite so homesick as before?'

She gave him her brightest smile instantly, covering up her emotions before he saw anything.

'Yes, although the girls in the hostel still consider me the original old- fashioned girl from the nineteen century. But they're very kind to me, just the same as before.'

'What made you decide to venture into the big city?'

Her lean shoulders arose then fell in defeat before she started explaining the reason for her decisions. It was easy talking to him, talking about things she had never ever could talk to anybody else.

'There was nothing there for me, back at home. When I left school, Charlie, that is my stepfather found me a position in an doctor's office; I was lucky to get that, I presume.'

'I was a doctor too, you know.'

Before she could do more than show her surprise he sent her a quick, understanding smile.

'Well, yes, specializing in cardiology. Didn't you like it?'

'Yes, I loved it. He was a lawyer. But I have always wanted to become a doctor. The problem was that we had no scope back there in the greensands. Plus we were to make do with what we have. Our status was something hovering in between poverty and middle- class.'

'In other words, you didn't want to live of your… father' There was something akin to accusation in the way he voiced it that made her go defensive immediately. He seemed to blame somebody, but it was to her completely bizarre as to who he was blaming.

'He provides everything for my mother and brothers. I can't ask for anything more now, can I?' she said, her eyes firing up.

'You can't or you won't?' his voice was somewhat edgy.

'Of course I can't ask him to finance me to university! And after university, I'll have to specialize in some particular field and then I'll need a clinic and then I'll have to build up my reputation. You should know that being a doctor yourself! It costs _money – _Money that we can't afford.'

'But with your wit, talent, aspirations and capability, you could have easily gotten a scholarship. You could have right?' he countered.

'Yes, I did. I did get a scholarship. But at that time, my family needed me more. Between myself and my family, I think I know where my priority lies.' She defended.

A grudging smile cracked the pursed lips of Carlise Cullen, 'Well spoken.'

Bella didn't answer. She scooped up a spoonful of food and inserted it mechanically.

'So the brothers that you spoke about, who are they? Are they your own, step-brothers, or half-brothers?' he asked hoping to distil the argument.

'Jacob, Quill and Embry. The children of my mother and Charlie….'

She spoke at length about her family, the house and everything of her previous life enthusiastically. She then went on to explain about what she did at the present, since she wasn't exactly studying for medicine.

'My hobby was to mainly read, read and read. Then I was introduced to the art of writing and I have never looked back. I wanted to write things with packed with information which kindled the interest of the people and let my imagination run wild...'

She paused and then continued in the same expressive and excited tone, 'I've always been able to write mystery stories and literary prose, dreaming up various plots and drama to spice it up, romance is – was one of my forte's. Charlie thinks it's a frolicsome little gift and I assume it is, but it's the only thing one I've got and I wanted to use it to the fullest. I felt that if I didn't get away I'd reduce into—into a nothing. A Nonentity. No name. Just be some girl who was looking after the records for some big-shot lawyer. I wanted more than that.'

She gestured with her small, capable, nimble hands, trying rather helplessly to explain. 'Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely place to live and all, but I wanted to see if I could — I felt that I had to get away. It was stifling me. Also I can sew and craft well enough to be good. I manage the library here and I also write for the local newspaper. That is what is getting me money until I figure something out with my future.'

The impulsive unexpected passion in her voice shocked her as much, if not more, as it did him.

'Oh! I'm so sorry,' she said apologetically. 'Charlie is always warning me for dramatising. But I honestly did think that it was very necessary to go away from home and venture into the big wide world.'

'Oh, you shouldn't apologise for being honest, dear.' His sharp eyes rested attentively on her beautifully chiselled profile. 'I'm just a little more than taken aback to find a keen disposition underneath that tranquil pretty face, that's all.'

'Well, I try to keep it under lids, albeit unsuccessfully,' she told him, smiling contritely.

'And you've succeeded splendidly. Why here though? It's such a long way from home, is it not?'

The sun struck a rainbow of sparks from her dark brown curls as she nodded thoughtfully.

Carlise's throat constricted as he took in the girl before him.

'My mother recommended it, unexpectedly enough, much to Charlie's horror.'

She chuckled as she remembered the scene, down memory lane.

'He's wonderful, but intolerably old-fashioned in his ideas and way of thinking and he is — _good. _He thinks cities are sites of sin, but Renee said that if I wanted become a person, here was the best place to come. She drove up along with me and arranged a job as a worker at the state library and found a hostel for me to live in.'

'And now you work at a library, write for the newspaper and do some sewing when need calls for it?'

She shrugged again, her hesitant look enlightening her not so positive feelings.

'Well, it's a living, provides me my bread and butter, and I am learning a lot. And hence, the appropriate statement would be, "I'm lovin' it!"'

Both fell into laughter at her attempted southern drawl.

'What would you _really_ like to do, Isabella Swan?'

'Become a paediatrician. Save children. Make children happy. I want to specialize in oncology, centring on children,' she replied instantly, eyes far away.

'I make money. Get a scholarship to correspondence university. Intern. Work at the General Hospital. And then establish my own clinic. And in the mean time publish my mystery too.

Her full lips firmed in its resolve.

'I_ am _going to do it, one day.' She added as an after thought.

'Good for you,' he said confidently. 'But would it pay?'

'That is not why I want to do this. I want to help people. That is my motive not money' She turned to him, her face alight with eagerness.

'But, yes it would mint money'

The midday sun danced over the broad tresses of her waist length hair, flowing over her petite, proud head and showed through the pale, almost bloodless pallor of her skin.

She had a striking face, strangely ethereal for a girl who had crossed her twenty years of age. She seemed to think that she wasn't beautiful. But what she didn't know was that she was so strikingly beautiful that every single head turned around as she walked past, the men with awe and the women in jealousy. She was pure and kind with a quick mind and intellect, a sight for sore eyes.

It was also true that her voice was truly remarkable, musical and enchanting to listen to, and she was the blessed carrier of a freshness which appealed to those who looked any deeper than the surface. She could charm the pants out a tantrum throwing three year old child to an old and irritating seventy year old man all in the span of a second. As said, truly remarkable.

Now as she spoke, vibrant and unselfconscious, she made a striking picture, a picture worth a thousand words.

He turned his head towards the entrance of the park..

'Oh, here comes my drive into down town. Too soon, I'm afraid to say.'

His lift turned out to be a man in his early thirties, a very very tall man who moved with lissom polished strides across the lawn. His frame, starting with the messy bronze hair to his lithe feet clad in smart formal wear, he looked like a man who had conquered the world. His startling green eyes seemed trained at her every movement. She practically stopped breathing as she took in his carefully sculpted features. God had definitely spent a few minutes more than the normal five seconds on him, she thought wryly.

Bella looked up into a visage which seemed carved out of marble stone, the sharply-outlined, despotic characteristics subordinated to eyes of a dazzling, blistering green and a mouth which was sensually full and his look straight and hard.

Sure, he was handsome, as handsome as a Greek God, but that fact did not register much, because of the supreme authority and power that radiated from him. Bella felt almost thoroughly frightened by the intensity o fsuch vibes.

Instinctively her chin came up in blind defiance.

She met the calculative assumptions in his gaze with an equanimity which took all of her will to maintain.

'Hmm, Edward,' Mr Cullen greeted him with obvious pleasure.

'As early as ever. Bella, meet my nephew, Edward Cullen. Edward, you sure to have heard of Bella Swan who kind-heartedly allows some of her precious hours to be monopolised by me now and then.'

For some strange reason, Bella did not want to touch this Edward Cullen, much less shake hands with him. Of course she couldn't exactly refuse, even though the touch of his pale strong fingers around hers sent a hot little quiver across her skin, raising .

'Miss Swan,' he said with distant politeness, the smile on his lips strangely too narrow. 'I suppose Bella is the shortened version of Isabel?'

He could made her name sound like poison without even trying. She couldn't even retort, completely taken aback by the musical tone of voice.

'No, Isabella actually' she instead replied tersely.

'Ah… So do you work around here, Isabella Swan?'

He asked with a critical edge to his beautiful voice which even strengthened her first impression of him as a dangerous man.

Isabella's skin tensed up and she retracted her hand away slowly. He was being patronising and he knew it, and he intended her to know it too.

'Yes as a matter of fact,' she said as politely as humanely possible. 'Do you also, Mr Cullen?'

Those brilliant eyes flamed by sinister, thick lashes came down over them as he blinked his surprise.

'No,' he whispered softly. 'My office is situated down town.'

As expected.

He wore a grey, stylishly cut suit which had probably cost more than her family's entire budget on clothes for half a decade of years.

In all probability, she determined rather unjustly, it was his tailored perfection and the way he carried himself which made her feel unfairly that there was a body of enormous authority beneath the remarkable material.

She almost recoiled as his eyes ran over her body in a complete appraisal before dismissing her.

As dark colour parched up through her pale cheeks he turned to his uncle and said, 'It is time we went Carlise, bearing in mind that you don't want to miss your appointment with the doc.'

'Oh, I suppose so. Its is still early though.,' the older man returned cheerfully, ' but as you said, still we'd better go now. Goodbye, dear.'

'See you around Mr. C' She paused hesitantly before adding, 'Goodbye, Mr Cullen.'

He seemed astounded that she had spoken to him, lifting a brow as he replied in the like, 'Goodbye, Isabella,' and in doing so, highlighting the great societal chasm between them with a total lack of sophistication.

His uncle responded by looking sharply at him but further than offering an remorseful smile to Bella, he voiced no reprimand as his _beloved_ nephew led him away.

Edward Cullen did not exactly grab his uncle by the hand and drag him away, but there was absolutely no uncertainty in the fact that he was leading Carlise away as swiftly as he could, as if her mere existence was a contamination to the world.

Bella felt a scorching wave of mortification at what his cruel actions implied, but beneath it were a hot, furious anger and a cold pride. She had seen many act like this and each time it still had the same effect. They received her indifference. But Edward Cullen acting like that left her unbearably hurt. Although exactly why she was hurt, she didn't know and didn't want to know. She steeled her resolve. She cared about only what Carlise thought. Only Carlise. Edward could damn well go to hell.

Just who did Mr Edward Cullen think he was?

He had with deliberate intent tried to make her feel inferior; succeeded remarkably with cent percent accuracy, too.

That was what wealth and high social status did to you, she thought: a bred superiority and a snobbish bigotry.

And it wasn't even like he was much older than her — given her calculations, he would be not more than a decade years older than her.

She continued to sit on the bench, her eyes fixed upon the two distant figures as they walked across the park to where a very luxurious car awaited. A silver Volvo to be exact if she remember any information Jacob had drummed into her head. No matter what make it was of, it looked sleek and powerful and nightmarishly pricey.

As she remained watching, Edward Cullen bent down to close the passenger's side then swung around the front to do the same to his door. All very gentlemanly.

The gentle sun highlighted the shining brown highlights in his dark bronze hair. As if aware of her watchful speculation, he looked over his shoulders.

She saw a flash of sparkling white teeth as he smiled or rather smirked, in the next second he was inside the car, the soft purr of the engine was heard momentarily and then it was swiftly pulling away from the parking slot.

The curve of Bella's mouth tautened, then relaxed.

It was stupid to allow one man to upset her. But that was what troubled her. He was the only man who had made her feel like that, all in the span of one conversation, a short one at that too.

The world is always separated. But that, looked at in the right way was an impel to ambition.

To her intense surprise Bella found herself vowing that one day in the near far future. Edward Cullen would look at her again and that time, he'd find no grounds for such condescending contempt.

Somewhat stunned by the ferocity with which she made her promise to herself, she filled the last few mouthfuls into the spoon angrily and threw it on the ground as food for the birds before she got to her feet to return to another evening of had work and sales.

Life had to go on. She would cross the bridge when in comes.

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_To be continued…_

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**A/N :**

**Hey people!**

**Likey?**

**13 pages for the record.**

**Review me your thoughts and comments!**

**PM me for anything, no worries!**

**Constructive criticism accepted.**

**Thnx,**

**Waiting for your responses,**

**Janna. =)**

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